


forever is the sweetest con

by rweoutofthewoods



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: (duh), Alternate Universe - Hannibal (TV) Fusion, Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Will Graham, Eventual non-graphic sexual content, FBI, France (Country), Graphic Descriptions of Murder, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, Lots of Murder, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Murder Husbands, Time Skips, Will meets Hannibal as a kid, Yes this is another fic title from a Taylor Swift song, Young Will Graham, but no underage!!, guys this is a Hannibal fic duh, takes place pre s1 and through to post s3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:48:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29266011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rweoutofthewoods/pseuds/rweoutofthewoods
Summary: Will Graham spends the summer he’s eleven in France with his dying father. It’s here that he meets Hannibal Lecter, a curious young man with an unusual accent.Will leaves the man behind in France, never giving so much as his name. When Hannibal meets Will Graham decades later who bares a striking familiarity that Hannibal can’t quite place, old shadows come out to play and the course of their lives are changed forever.—Basically the What If Hannibal Met Will in Europe When He Was a Young and How Would That Change the Story AU
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 7
Kudos: 109





	1. Phoenix

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I’m blending Taylor Swift and Hannibal sue me. (Actually Taylor is known for suing and I am using a line from “cowboy like me” as my title so please don’t, I’m not gonna profit off of it I swear!)

**Chapter one: Phoenix**

Will was eleven the year he spent a summer in France. The Grahams were never exactly the “vacation to Europe for an entire season” type but _that_ summer, that was different.

Because this was the hopeless burning summer that followed an earth shattering Autumn, a hopeful winter, and a spring of acceptance. Well, the accepting was more from his father. Will was fiery, angry, wild. He’d always been a quiet child but that summer was the summer he screamed.

James Graham knew the moment he got his diagnosis. He started saving for that trip, if he was going to die, damn, he was going to show his son the world at least once. So when he was gone his boy would know there was more to the world than the foster homes he’d no-doubt drift in and out of. James was going to die, he had very little to leave his son. He couldn’t keep Will out of foster care, James had no one to leave him to. It’d always been just the two of them. So all he could do was give him something to remember him by, one good summer.

James couldn’t pretend to understand his son, but he understood enough to know he’d never get Will. That his mind worked differently, but James loved him and accepted Will regardless. He feared that when he was gone, no one else ever would.

“It’ll be fun,” James had told Will with a half smile when he announced their vacation.

Will hadn’t said a word, eyes fixed somewhere over James’ shoulder, mouth twisted in a look that was somewhere between distaste and grief. James wanted to grab Will by the shoulders and yell that he wasn’t dead yet.

He didn’t, instead, he turned back to the newspaper which he’d been flipping through and fought off the urge to explain himself to Will. He almost scoffed at himself, feeling scrutinized by his eleven-year-old son. Will probably knew his father’s _exact_ motivation for taking them to France. James couldn’t explain it, but Will seemed to know most things. He couldn’t help but wonder how incredible his son would be when he was grown up, the kind of things Will would be able to do. It was a shame James thought, that he’d never see it.

“I was thinking about going to one of those museums today, I mean what’s the point of a trip Europe if you don’t see at least _some_ stolen art right?” James joked on a casual day a month or so into their trip.

Will didn’t laugh, he rarely did but these days James often felt himself buckling under the fire in Will’s eyes. “I want to go to the market, Martin said he would bring his dog.”

“We could go after the museum,” Will’s father suggested.

“I can go to the market alone,”

James was silent surveying his son for a minute, the way his dark curls fell into his face, help him retreat into himself, despite his timid posture, Will’s eyes were steel. “Fine,” James relented “but next time you’re coming with me okay, I want to spend more time with you.” The _before I die_ part remained unspoken but they could both taste it in the dry summer air.

—

Will was pretty sure he was crazy, this wasn’t a new revelation. He may be young but he wasn’t an idiot. He knew he was different. He’d watched movies where a kid’s parent was dying and the kid wanted to spend every moment they could with said parent before they were gone. Will didn’t want that, he preferred being alone than spending every second with his father while his cancer loomed over their heads like a toxic cloud. Seeping into Will’s throat and choking him every time he tried to breathe or think a thought that didn’t leave a whisper of death behind it. The cancer didn’t want the world around it to know anything but _it_. Every moment the unacknowledged shadow of the illness sat there on his father’s shoulder. Will watched it laugh gleefully to itself as it slowly killed the man. So, Will liked his time away from its twisted smile.

Will weaved around people as he made his way through the stalls on the street until finally, he made it to a little booth set up with jewelry glinting in the sun. Will wasn’t exactly a jewelry person, but the first time he’d seen it there had been opals sitting out on the table and Will had been so transfixed by the way they glimmered like something out of a fairy book that he’d stopped short. The owner of the stall, Martin had struck up a conversation and Will had liked the way the man didn’t talk down to him, so he’d kept coming back.

“Did you bring your dog?” Will asked in French as he approached Martin.

Martin smiled, his wrinkled face cracking into wrinkled as he did “hello, young William.” He replied “indeed I did. This is Aubin.”

Will felt himself smile involuntarily at the sight of the dog and he followed Martin’s beckoning hand to the back of the stall where the little white dog was lying in his bed.

Martin chatted aimlessly while Will pet his dog, which Will occasionally responded to in little nods or short sentences. Louisiana French was a little different than the French they spoke here and the first month had been a lot of learning the differences, but Will had caught on fast enough and while the things he said often amused (or appalled people depending on how they felt about Louisiana French, some thought it a disgrace to the language ) people, he could hold a conversation.

A customer approached and Martin ceased his rapid chatter at Will to bombard his customer instead.

“Ah yes, the opals.” Martin nodded “they’re beautiful aren’t they, and often overlooked I fear, people prefer diamonds and rubies these days.”

“Indeed opals, have an enchanting beauty to them. You know blonde women used to wear them in their hair? They were thought to make it brighter and bring them beauty.” The costumer spoke in perfect French but he had the hint of an accent that Will couldn’t place and it made him tear his attention from Aubin.

“They’re like little pieces of Mercury,” Will said suddenly.

The man looked back into the stall where Will sat and he noticed that he was much younger than Will had originally assumed him to be, he couldn’t be older than mid-twenties. He didn’t react in a usual way to Will butting into the conversation, there was no disapproval or raised eyebrow, no shake of a head. Instead the young man just looked at Will for a very long moment like he was trying to pull the boy’s mind apart through his gaze, and then he smiled. “You’re absolutely right,” he said “they are quite beautiful. I hope you don’t see this as a disregard of manners, but you have an unusual accent. I wonder, where you are from?”

“New Orleans,”

The man nodded like it was clicking into place “of course, French is weaved in the city’s history.”

“You have an unusual accent too,” Will told him.

The man just smiled like Will was some delightful little toy “that is true,” he turned to Martin “I’ll take this one,” he pointed to one of the opal pieces on the table.

“Of course,” Martin nodded.

Within a few minutes the man had bought his item and disappeared into the crowd but even after his departure Will was left shifting uncomfortably. Something about the man was unsettling, Will didn’t like it.

—

Will returned to their little apartment as the sun was setting, his father was back and sitting on the couch, his face tilted up to the ceiling and his eyes closed.

James Graham opened his eyes as the front door shut behind Will.

“Hey, son,” he greeted with a tired smile.

Will just nodded in greeting before going to their small kitchen and pulling out a frying pan to start dinner.

“I can do that,” his father protested but they both knew he was too tired so Will ignored him and set to work on cooking the one thing he could do on his own, eggs. They ate eggs more and more frequently as of late.

When he was finished he helped his father from the couch to the table and they ate quietly.

“This is good, kid. At this rate you’re gonna be a real chef before you know it.”

Will shrugged and James paused for a moment, debating something. His eyes fell to his fork, which shook slightly in his hand. Will had done research at the local library when he found out his father was sick, he knew by the time autumn chased out summer, his father would be bedridden.

“Look, William,” James started and Will stiffened immediately, his dad _never_ called him William. “I know you’re not the talking type, but I think it’s time we discussed what’s going to happen after this summer.”

Will was quiet, gaze drilling a hole into the table. For a careful tense second everything was silent, even the ever persistent hum of the city outside the walls had ceased. The nothingness rang in Will ears, steady and unending like a flatlined heart screaming in mourning for its end.

And then there was a deafening boom and Will stood, his chair hitting the floor with a crack. In an instant the silence was shattered and suddenly Will could hear every little sound of the world around him. He wanted to curl up under the table and put his hands over his ears to shut out the noise. Let all of the noise and the pain implode into him, but instead, he waved his arm and he could see the fire exploding out from him tearing down everything in its path until the kitchen was charred and the countertops crumbled into ash.

“I know what’s going to happen!” Will yelled “you’re going to die and taking me to France and pretending like everything is going to be just fine isn’t going to make it fine! You’re going to leave me and I’ll be alone! I know I’m different, no one will want me! You know no one will and you’re acting like I’m a dumb little kid but I’m not! I know you’re scared that I’ll never make it when you’re gone! Stop treating me like I’m fragile!”

James didn’t respond, his mouth open in shock at Will’s outburst. His behavior as of late had been increasingly volatile, but he was never the yelling type.

“Will—“ his father began and Will could hear each stutter in of his dad’s breath as it left his lungs, it cracked in Will’s ears like a whip, and this time he did cover his ears.

The ashes in the kitchen were on a loop, settling into charred dust and then jumping alight again. Will couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, there was screaming in his head accompanied by the shake of his father’s breath.

Will ran.

He tore out of the little apartment and down the street. He didn’t hear his father calling after him, he didn’t see the people on the street casting him bewildered looks or the people with kind eyes who stopped, asking him if he was alright and where were his parents?

Will didn’t stop until his lungs were screaming and every inhale cut like a knife to his throat. He collapsed on a bench positioned to look over a a deserted park. The only light came from a street lamp some feet away which painted the cobblestone path golden. Will sat on the bench his breath ragged and his shoulders shaking as he sobbed silently, tears painting his face.

He wasn’t sure how long he cried but eventually, the roar of noise in his head faded to a sound akin to the crash of waves in the distance. As it quieted Will became aware of another presence, even before he turned he could feel someone there.

As if the person knew Will had noticed them, they stepped forward. They sat beside Will without saying a word and Will recognized the man as the costumer from Martin’s stall earlier that day.

“You’re quite distressed,” the man noted, this time speaking in English and Will had the sudden urge to repeat one of his father’s favorite sayings and tell the man “no shit,”

However, while he may not have had the best manners in the world, Will still knew it wouldn’t be right to curse at this unknown adult.

“Yeah,” Will said instead “there is a loop in my head.”

“A loop?” The man asked curiously and Will found he quite liked the smoothness of his accent when he spoke English.

“Yes, it’s like the story of the Phoenix but without the rebirth. Fire and ash, then the fire blazes again.”

Something sparked in the man’s eyes but Will couldn’t bring himself to fear it, he could tell this man must be dangerous, but at this moment he seemed to mean Will no harm so he looked directly into his eyes, returning the man’s gaze with a dark one of his own. Will didn’t like to meet people’s eyes normally, there was too much in them but something told Will that it would be unwise not to know what was in this man’s eyes at each given second.

“Without the rebirth? Hm, so you are stuck in a constant cycle of dying and death.”

Will froze, _yes_. That was exactly what it was, no one had ever understood such a thing before.

“You have more in your head than most, and you’re awfully young too.” The man continued “how old are you?”

“Eleven,” Will mumbled steeling himself for the usual that he was “too young” for such thoughts and that maybe playing sports would make him feel better but the words didn’t come.

The man simply nodded “I can’t imagine how much you will possess when you are grown,”

The word _possess_ struck Will as an alarming way to put it and he shifted a little at the tilt of the man’s tone. He sounded almost hungry, Will wasn’t sure if he desired what Will _possessed_ or the chance to simply know it when he was grown.

“What’s your name?” Will asked abruptly, tired of referring to him as “the man” in his head.

He didn’t seem put off by Will’s sudden change in topic he just smiled slightly the corner of his lip lifting up in a half-smile “Hannibal,”

“That’s a weird name,”

For a second Hannibal seemed taken aback by Will’s rudeness but after a pause, he seemed to decide he found it interesting rather than insulting and he nodded “indeed, what’s your name?”

Will frowned “I’m not going to tell you,”

“Why is that?” Hannibal asked tilting his head.

“Because you’re a random stranger who approached _me_ a kid alone on a bench, you could be a serial killer.”

Hannibal chuckled at that “and you think that if it were my intention to murder you that not knowing your name would stop me?”

“If _you_ were,” Will said “you find me peculiar you want to know about me. If you were actually a murderer in this particular situation you wouldn’t kill me until you’d figured me out. You couldn’t do it now before you even knew my name because then you would never know about the ashes in my head, and I think you’re very interested in the ashes.”

For the first time in their interaction Hannibal looked honestly surprised “I have never been seen so clearly before.” He said and his voice was low almost sad. Will understood the feeling and he wondered if this was who he would be when he was an adult, someone who walked alone, always longing to be understood.

“No, and I am sure you never will be again.” Will stood from the bench and turned away from Hannibal, departing without a word of goodbye.

Will got the feeling that this interaction would be one the older man would remember for a long time, and no doubt Will would too. But now, Will was eleven, his father was dying. He would most likely never return to a France after this summer and never see this man again. He hoped, however, that in another life perhaps Will met him at a different time and got to see and be seen.

It was a nice thought, that somewhere out there in existence, Will was understood.


	2. so we meet again

**Chapter two: so we meet again**

In future years when Will looked back at that moment, he could taste the blood coating his teeth. Feel it heavy on his tongue. See the lights flicker and the room shake, but his memory was tainted by knowledge, changed and shaped to turn such a mundane moment into something as catastrophic as the string of events that followed. The pivot his life took

In reality, the room was still and Will was untouched, his mouth tasting of nothing but the coffee he’d been drinking before his lecture.

When Jack Crawford approached students were filing out of the lecture hall, darting around Jack as he entered, some of them pausing to look between the FBI agent and their professor.

“Will Graham,” Jack greeted, stopping besides Will’s desk “interesting lecture.”

Will shrugged, focusing his gaze on his desk “I guess,” he unplugged his laptop and started stacking his things to give his hands something to do.

Jack paused for a moment “well, I suppose you’d prefer to cut through the small talk and get to the point?”

“Please,” Will said refraining from pointing out that the question in itself was small talk.

“I’d like you to consult on a case,”

“I don’t do that,”

“Anymore,” Jack said pointedly and Will felt a twist of annoyance in his gut.

“Yes,”

Jack barreled on undeterred “you should at least take a look at the file,” he said dropping said file on Will’s desk.

Will frowned at the file, pausing in the organization of his things.

“Look, I’ve left you alone for a long time on the insistence of a mutual friend, Dr. Bloom, but this case has gone too far and we really need the help.”

Will sighed picking up the file and opened it, scanning the information within.

“All those girls, dead,” Jack said peering over Will’s shoulder, like Will wasn’t already aware of this fact.

Will didn’t want to give in but something about the case rubbed at him and he could feel the details sinking into his head, images flashing unbidden before his eyes. Will pushed them back. He shut it out quickly, imagining steel doors slamming shut with a bang before the pendulum could swing. He’d found that if he wasn’t careful he could quickly lose control of his mind and get lost in other people, and he wasn’t ready to throw himself headfirst into this case yet.

“I’ll think about consulting,” Will said finally handling the file back.

“Good, you can meet in my office after your last class tomorrow.” Jack said and Will got that feeling that the other man was taking this as Will agreeing. The worst part was that Will knew Jack was right to expect it, he would be in Jack’s office tomorrow whether he wanted to or not.

—

Will’s anxiety had grown overnight and he stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets to hide their shaking as he made his way down the hall. He could hear the faint timbre of conversation coming from Jack’s office but he didn’t let his footsteps falter. Will had made up his mind. One could call Will Graham unreliable (and many did) but when he _really_ decided on something, he didn’t back out.

When Will entered Jack’s office the agent stood at his desk “Ah, Will. You made it.” Jack greeted smoothly, like he’d known Will would come.

Will didn’t like that assumption. “I didn’t agree yesterday,” he said roughly. Before he could continue and say something that would probably be interpreted as rude Will registered another person.

Seeing Will’s pause, Jack chose to ignore his comments gesturing to a tall man who stood as the attention was on him.

As Will’s eyes fell on the man something in the pit of his stomach twisted and Will’s gut screamed that he knew this person. In the moment it took to place him Jack was still speaking.

“Will this is Dr. Lecter, he’s going to be helping us with this case. Dr. Lecter, this is Will Graham.”

Will’s heart dropped.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Hannibal held out his hand and Will was suddenly aware of his hands in his pockets, of the scar around his left ring finger hidden from view. He knew immediately that it’d be unwise to let the doctor see it. Obviously Hannibal didn’t recognize Will. He’d been a kid when they’d last crossed paths. Something told Will that he didn’t want Hannibal to remember him.

So he nodded, ignoring the outstretched hand and moving to sit at one of the chairs in front of Jack’s desk.

Jack frowned at Will’s rudeness looking to Hannibal who must have brushed it off, but Will was careful not to look.

After a moment the other two men sat down and Jack started to talk about the case, things will already knew. Fourteen girls dead, found dumped in an abandoned warehouse, ages seventeen to twenty and extremely emancipated, probably starved during the nine months they were held. Defensive wounds, cause of death ranged from head injury to starvation.

As Jack and Hannibal discussed the case, Will found himself getting more and more agitated until he interrupted. “Who’s profile is he doing?” Will asked Jack, careful not to look over at Hannibal.

“He’s here to help with the case Will,” Jack said trying to placate him.

“I’m not unstable,” Will said ignoring Jack’s pitiful attempt at avoidance “and if you think I am then you probably shouldn’t have brought me onto this investigation.”

Jack balked a little at that, clearly not liking Will pushing blame onto him “Dr. Bloom urged me not to involve you, she thinks it will be harmful. However, she is not your doctor and you are free to take part in this investigation if it’s what you’d like. Dr. Bloom was upset by this decision and suggested Dr. Lecter could help with this profile in her place.”

Will snorted “so you mean Alana wouldn’t help you because she thinks I’m crazy so now you’ve brought on him.” He gestured to

A vein in Jack’s forehead twitched but he was able to contain whatever it was he wanted to say “are you on the case or not Will?”

“I’m here aren’t I? You know I am.” He stood suddenly pushing his chair back “I have papers to grade, I’m already briefed on the case so call me when you need me.”

Will was out of the room before Jack could protest that it wasn’t protocol and Will inevitably argued that none of this was.

As the door swung shut behind him he heard Jack say to Hannibal “I’m sorry about him, he can be a little prickly.”

Thankfully Will didn’t have to hear Hannibal’s response as he headed down the hall, the distance blurring their voices.

—

Will was more than done with this particular day by the time he finally left work that day, heading towards the exit with his laptop and a stack of handouts from class that morning.

Unfortunately, it seemed the day wasn’t done with him yet because just before he crossed the space that would take him to the parking lot a voice called his name.

“Mr. Graham,” the accent was unmistakable and Will froze.

“Dr. Lecter,” Will said turning towards the man, but not taking his eyes up farther than his shiny expensive shoes.

“Not a fan of eye contact?” Hannibal asked curiously.

“No,” Will said plainly, unwilling to give Hannibal anything with which to take interest in. Something about seeing him now in contrast to the younger version Will remembered set him on edge. It felt like the two images didn’t match up and Will wondered what had happened in the decades since their last meeting.

“Well,” Hannibal said undeterred by Will’s rudeness “I wanted to say that Jack Crawford speaks very highly of your work, I wanted to make sure we get off on the right foot, seeing as we’ll be working together.” He said ever polite.

“Our feet are fine,” Will said and he knew immediately he’d said the wrong thing because as he looked up at Hannibal’s face he caught a flash of interest in the older man’s eyes.

“You say curious things don’t you?” Hannibal mused.

“You being curious doesn’t make what I say curious.” Will snapped unable to stop himself.

At that that the underlying amusement in Hannibal’s expression faltered and Will knew the man was surprised at being pinned down. It probably wasn’t often that people could interpret his behaviors.

“I have to go, I suppose I’ll see you around.” Will said quickly turning, leaving Hannibal to watch him leave.

—

It was three days later when Will got the call from Jack that they’d found another body, making the count fifteen thus far. Will was on a plane to Montana and on-site by that afternoon.

“Will,” Jack greeted waving him over as the crime scene milled around them.

“This is a different type of dump site,” Will said surveying the area, instead of a warehouse this time the body had been dumped on a patch of foreclosed farmland, just laying in the field.”only one body?”

“So far,”

Will frowned “she’s different, something about this girl was wrong, a disappointment.”

“How do you know?” A voice asked and Will noticed a woman who he recognized as Agent Katz.

Normally Will would have bristled by the question but Katz didn’t seem to have any underlying hunger, she wasn’t asking out of fear or a desire to pick him apart, she simply wanted to know how he’d come to the conclusion.

“The other fourteen girls were dumped in batches, all in different warehouses. Fairly well hidden. This is a wide open space, she’s here alone. He wants her to be seen, he’s publicly shaming her.”

Katz nodded, considering his words. She seemed a little skeptical but Will found that made him like her. She clearly was taking note of what he was suggesting and filing it away, she wouldn’t discount it unless he was proven wrong, but she wouldn’t accept it as a fact until he gave her the proof for that too. She was good at her job, Will could tell.

“I’ve cleared the scene for you Will,” Jack cut in “I can take you there now.”

Will nodded turning away from Katz “Lead the way,”

—

Once Will was alone he surveyed the scene. The girl’s body was displayed, her bare limbs outstretched to show her off and Will felt his initial theory had been correct, she was being showed off, shamed.

Will closed his eyes and let himself go, the pendulum swinging across his vision.

_I have a fantasy, a vision. It must be perfect. They must play their parts, she wouldn’t play. I gave her the pieces but she refused my fantasy. She was a disappointment._

_I left her here so everyone would know, her shame would be seen. She was wrong, broken, disgusting. She is not enough for my design._

Will’s eyes flew open as the pieces fell into place.

“Did she have defensive wounds?” Will asked as soon as he was in earshot of the rest of the team again.

Katz shook her head “obviously we have to do a full autopsy at the lab, but preliminary exam didn’t show any.”

“What are you thinking Will?” Jack asked and Will was careful to avoid the gaze of Hannibal who stood beside the agent, he must have joined them while Will was with the body.

“All the other bodies had defensive wounds, the file said one of them had the skin of another victim under her nails. He’s having them fight each other, this girl refused.”

“But what about the starvation?” Another agent asked, Zeller, Will was pretty sure.

“Part of the fantasy,” the agent frowned looking unconvinced but Jack waved his hand to stop any conflict before it started.

“Thank you, Will. Let’s get the body to a lab and reconvene tomorrow morning. Keep your phones on, I’ll call if anything turns up. Will, Dr. Lecter, why don’t you find someplace to work, you can get started on a profile.”

Will nodded unhappily and Jack shot him a warning glare.

Will turned to Hannibal “we can get coffee or something,” He said carefully not phrasing it as a question, any interactions between them, Will wanted on his terms.

“Of course, do you have a place in mind?” Hannibal asked politely.

“I’ll find something on Google,” Will shrugged and pushed past the other man, he didn’t wait to see if Hannibal followed.

—

Here was the thing, if Will hadn’t met Hannibal previously he might think the psychiatrist to be a little peculiar, smart maybe, but otherwise Will didn’t think he’d think much of him. Outwardly, Hannibal seemed eccentric but harmless. His polite demeanor and calmness gave him a mask to hide behind, one Will probably wouldn’t have seen behind. At least not at first, if not for their brief history.

Will had seen a different person in Paris. Hannibal had been sharp, he’d said things to Will that looking back at it now most people would never say to a child. Talk of death and darkness. Hannibal’s mask had been under construction and Will had seen the flash of danger, now it was absent but Will felt like he could almost glimpse it in the careful way the other man carried himself.

They settled down with the case files in the nearest coffee shop Will could find, tucked into a secluded corner so no one would overhear.

Hannibal made a face as he took a sip of his coffee and Will shook his head laying out the file. He tried a taste of his own drink, it was good just normal coffee, it hardly warranted Hannibal’s distaste.

“So, am I to understand that you have the profile?” Hannibal asked.

“Huh?” Will responded dumbly, surprised by the question..

“At the farm, you seemed to have already drawn up a complete profile, even if you didn’t give it all to Jack.”

Will frowned “I gave him everything I’m fairly certain of, I… I have an idea but it’s just a feeling.”

“I would wager your feelings are often correct,” Hannibal said, eyes fixed on Will’s face.

He kept his own eyes on the table “Well, yes. But this is a real case, I put out my suspicions as much as I felt I could. I’m pretty sure the agents didn’t believe me as is.”

“I believe you, tell me your idea.”

Will pulled his coffee closer, wrapping his left hand around the cup and letting the warmth comfort him. “He has a fantasy, it’s very specific, unusual and sexual in nature. He’s a sadist, he starves the girls and makes them fight each other. He takes these girls to play out his fantasy.”

“How does the starving fit into the fantasy?”

“I think it _is_ the fantasy. The fighting has become a integral part of his kills now, but look according to the report of the first girl to die, her defensive wounds were much less extreme and we know she went missing almost a year before the others.”

“So he has a sexual interest in them being extremely thin,”

“Yes, the forcing them to fight each other came after…” Will bit his lip “the first girl, Amelia Hange, she’s extremely thin in her picture, even before he took her.”

Hannibal leaned over, peering at the picture in question “indeed, dangerously so. You believe this is what drew him to her?”

“Yes, he was looking for a very specific type. They first batch of bodies found, multiple of the girls were models. They thought he was targeting them, but then not _all_ of them were and after that only one other of the girls found was previously a model so that idea was nixed. But it’s not the models he was targeting but the body type, until he realized he could make them himself. He started choosing girls for their potential, he delights in making them into his design.”

Hannibal nodded “Jack told me you were good,” he noted “I fear I underestimated how good.”

Will shrugged “it comes easily to me,” he stood gathering up the files and his coffee “come on, I need more info on Amelia Hange.”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t really want to cut this chapter off here, but I figured I’d kept people waiting too long for the next part so I’d split it up.
> 
> Anyway hope u enjoyed :) thank u to everyone who’s commented I swear I respond to you eventually I’m just really bad at that, sorry!
> 
> Edit: I forgot to note that obviously the case I chose to start with isn’t the shrike case but instead one I made up. I just didn’t see Abigail fitting into the story right now and I didn’t want to half-assedly put her in, so I decided to just cut that storyline. I might still add her in later though, maybe change up the timeline, we’ll see.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is my first Hannibal fic and you must know that I am unstoppable. If you enjoy poetic imagery to the degree of total incoherence at times, this fic is for you! 
> 
> I love to go crazy with my imagery and unfortunately for you, Hannibal is the type of show that lets me do that.
> 
> Anyway I was thinking about this idea of what it would be like for Hannibal to meet Will as a kid and then again through the FBI as adults so I just took it and ran with it. I plan to cover a lot of time, like from pre season 1 to post fall.
> 
> Also I tend to retain a lot of useless and often wrongly remembered information so like the stuff about opals and Louisiana French? It’s all molded to suit my creative needs, I am deriving the idea from fact but take most things I put in as bullshit.


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